Those pesky disabled people

I really am on the countdown now. Theoretically I have 5 weeks of pregnancy left, as I hit the 35 week mark yesterday. But considering I’ve never reached a due date with either previous pregnancy, I’m expecting it’ll be a few days short of the 40 week mark. I’m well aware there’s a 5 week ‘guessing period’ of due-datedness from 37 weeks to 42 weeks, ish. So I’m thinking I’ll start a sweepstake? So far in labour history I’ve got a 38+4 and a 39+3. Therefore I’m officially predicting my own baby’s gestation to be aboooout… 37+6… I don’t know why but I just think it might happen slightly earlier, or maybe that is just wishful, begging, desperate thinking as I’m SO uncomfortable.

Nothing fits. I even hate leggings and no one hates wearing leggings.

In the past few weeks I’ve had my first few belly measurements and they are consistently above average size, but still within the normal range. I’ve had blood taken again – which actually went swimmingly for a change because everything is swollen and I feel like I have Hulk-like veins. I don’t, but compared to how they normally cower within the depths of my skin so no medical professional can access them, it’s quite a treat. 

What else? Oh yes. We got engaged!  

Tom and I went down to Cornwall for our anniversary and shipped the children off to granny’s on the way (first time I’ve been away from them over a night or more, seriously!) and stayed in a hotel. It was brilliant, and very relaxing despite some completely inaccessible areas but we just worked things out ourselves, as we have a habit of doing. Tom carried me up and down spiral staircases to the posh swimming pool with staff watching, wondering what on earth we were thinking. We’re not stupid. We couldn’t NOT go swimming, child-free! 

 

There were no accessible changing rooms either so we improvised by sneaking into the empty gym so I could change into my swimsuit top. Well actually, the changing rooms were pretty accessible but it was a toss-up between Tom coming into the ladies’ room and risk getting shouted at, as all men are obviously predators, or me having to go in the men’s and watch other, hairier men changing or dare I say it, ‘flossing’. Neither filled me with ease so I opted for the sneaky gym-change. I guess a disabled person needing access, and then a place to change just doesn’t come into consideration when they refurbished this old hotel building. 

Challenges aside, it was lovely to stay in a hotel and just be us, without small children asking for breakfast at 5.52am for a couple of days. My mum had that pleasure. We even took a drive-yourself boat trip in the bay. Again, we faced challenges with this before we’d even gotten in the boat, with the operators of the boat-hire saying they were concerned for my safety.  (We’re always being irresponsible and risking our lives). It transpires that their concern was more that I  might try and sue them… Apparently they “had one the same, before”, who tried to claim against them after they hired the boat, even though nothing went wrong. It never gets old you know, being referred to as ‘one of them’, those vicious disabled people. What are we like, passionately waving copies of the Equality Act around and sueing people left, right and indeed centre. 

See look, I survived the trip. And I’m pretty sure Tom was quite comfortable with me being in control of the boat, just look at his calm face. In the evening following the boat ride, I decided I might be in labour- I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions, which I’ve had throughout all pregnancies but these were every two minutes and getting quite uncomfortable and slightly painful. We finished our restaurant meal and went back to our apartment and after sitting in bed for a while the pains eased off. Tom then decided he’d quite like to marry me, and conveniently he had a ring in his pocket and so the evening got a lot less stressful! Although before that moment Tom was imagining having to propose in the labour ward of the nearest hospital. 

It was the best weekend. 

So as far as birth preparations go, I’ve washed babygrows, bought some, but not all things for my hospital bag, and discussed a few birth plans with my midwife. It’s mostly a waiting game now.

It’s all getting very near…

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